


Long-due Reunion

by IsaWritings



Category: Glee, White Collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 20:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3542384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaWritings/pseuds/IsaWritings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nationals takes place in New York, two brothers are reunited after ten years, secrets are revealed and old enemies reappear. Can Neal outsmart them and find his brother in time, or will Blaine suffer the consequences of Neal's actions?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a crossover between Glee and White Collar. 
> 
> For those who watch Glee, but not White Collar: this is story is written from a White Collar perspective but with characters from Glee in it. It could be useful to know some of the background of White Collar since I have tried to follow canon as much as possible.  
> Also: this story is somewhat AU. It takes place in season 3 (from Glee), but Nationals takes place in New York (because it fit better in my story).   
> Also: episode 15 (Big Brother) didn't happen. Cooper Anderson didn't show up at McKinley and is not an actor. He does exist, though, as will be clear from the story.
> 
> For those who know White Collar but don't watch Glee: this story takes place in season 2, after Ford appears but before the whole mess with the U-boat. You might want to check out the background from Glee, and at the very least of Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel.
> 
> (And disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Collar or any of the characters from those shows.)
> 
> Enjoy!

“I need a favour,” Neal approached Peter hesitantly. Peter looked up from the file he was reading and sighed.

“What?” When Neal asked for a favour, it usually meant he was up to something which wasn't entirely legal – either in that grey zone or completely illegal.

“There's something I would like to go to this Saturday, but–”

“Let me guess: it's outside your radius?” Peter raised an eyebrow as he saw Neal's charming smile appear on his face. “And you need me to extend your radius so you can go to this thing, whatever it is? Forget it.” Neal's smile dropped a bit, but apparently he wasn't ready to give it up just yet.

“Could you please listen to me before jumping to conclusions? I promise you it isn't anything illegal.” He glared as Peter looked at him disbelievingly. “Really, Peter? Is it so hard to believe I would do something which isn't illegal in my free time? Besides, I knew you wouldn't extend my radius. Before you so rudely interrupted me, I was going to ask you to come with me. You and Elizabeth. I already bought tickets for the two of you. If you went with me, you wouldn't have to extend my radius.” He turned on his smile full-force while he looked expectantly at Peter. Peter leaned back in his chair, wondering what Neal's angle was.

“You already bought the tickets? Maybe El and I already have plans for the weekend.”

“Oh please, watching a game while drinking beer and overlooking case files isn't exactly what I'd call exciting.”

“It's good enough for me,” Peter retorted. “What is it you want to go to anyway? Another museum? Haven't you seen them all already?”

“I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. It's not 'another museum',” Neal said, making quotation marks in the air. From his pocket he extracted three tickets. “It's a show choir competition.”

“Show choir?” Peter had to try very hard to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. “What on earth makes you think I would go to a choir competition? Why are you so interested in it anyway?”

“Not choir, show choir. It's not the same. You know, Peter, once in a while, it's good to extend your cultural horizon a bit instead of watching yet another game. This is a unique opportunity, Peter!” Peter saw Neal was getting really worked up. “Nationals – that's the final round of the competition – is here in New York this year and we have tickets! You can't pass this up just because of some game you can watch at any time. Besides, I think Elizabeth might like it. I told her about it the other day and she sure seemed interested.”

Peter sighed deeply. Of course Neal would use Elizabeth to get what he wanted. He should have known. Being the conman he was, Neal always had an ace up his sleeve. But Peter couldn't help but be sceptic. Why was Neal suddenly so interested in this competition?

“Show choir?” Neal nodded. His smile had faded while he waited for Peter's answer. He knew he risked exposing himself to Peter, but he was willing to take the risk, just like he had been when he was arrested the first time.

“Please, Peter. It would mean a lot to me.”

This made Peter's interest flare. Neal was actually begging him for this.

“Why?”

Neal hesitated. “It just … brings back memories.” He said, hoping he hadn't given away too much. Peter wanted to ask more questions, force Neal to tell him why he was so desperate to go watch this competition, but he knew Neal wouldn't tell him. He would just deflect his questions. So Peter decided he would just have to be patient. Maybe he could find out on his own.

“I'll make you a deal. Finish these cases on mortgage fraud and I'll talk about it with Elizabeth.” When he saw Neal's smile grow with hope, he added quickly: “I'm not promising anything!”

But for Neal that seemed to be enough. He thanked Peter and left the office with the promise that he would have the cases finished by the end of the day.

* * *

Peter could only look at the stack of finished case files with astonishment. This show choir thing seemed to mean more to his young partner than he had initially thought. Even though he had told Neal he wouldn't make any promises, he secretly planned to try and convince Elizabeth to go to the show on Saturday, although his gut told him she wouldn't need much convincing. And once again, his gut turned out to be right. The moment he started to talk about it, she said enthusiastically she would love to go and immediately went to call Neal to tell him the good news.

The next Saturday, Neal, Peter, Elizabeth and Mozzie were sitting in their seats halfway in the auditorium. Neal and Elizabeth were looking in their programs at the names of the various show choirs and their members, while Mozzie was telling Peter about his theory about the brain washing of school children through show choir competitions. Peter rolled his eyes and started looking at the names as well, ignoring Mozzie. None of the names seemed familiar, but maybe Neal had been connected to one of the groups before he became one of the world's best forgers and most wanted felons. Maybe he had been in a show choir himself. Peter knew Neal could sing, he had seen him with June when Ford had come to visit. Maybe that was why he had said it brought back memories. From the corner of his eye, he looked at Neal, who was sitting next to him with a faraway look and the ghost of a smile on his face. He was staring intently at the names of a group called New Directions. Peter leafed through the program and quickly found the right page. It was a group from Lima, Ohio. According to the introductory text, they had made it to the finals once before. Underneath the text was a list of the sixteen members and their director. Peter scanned the list of names again, but none of them stood out. On his other side, Elizabeth leaned over and looked intently at the list.

“Do you think he knows one of them?” she whispered in his ear. “That that's why he wanted to come here so badly?”

Peter shrugged. He knew Elizabeth was just as curious as he was about Neal's motivation, but she seemed to be considering something he hadn't even thought about. On the other hand, these were all children, except for their director. And Neal was young, but not that young. Before he could tell her this, the lights in the auditorium went off and the presenter introduced the first group. After several groups had performed, the presenter announced the New Directions were up next. Neal suddenly sat up straighter in his chair. Peter noticed Mozzie looking at their young friend with what seemed to be a sad expression on his face. As he tried to watch both Neal and the group on the stage, he saw Neal's face go from hopeful to disappointed when a group of girls got up on the stage and started singing a song he vaguely recognized. While he thought they were doing great, he was also confused since almost half the people on the list were missing. His confusion was lifted when the song ended and the rest of the group appeared and joined the girls. They all stood in silence with their heads bowed until the music started and one of the girls started talking. She was immediately followed by a boy with dark hair that seemed to be glued to his head with gel. The moment the boy stepped to the front, movement in the corner of his eye caught Peter's attention. When he turned his head, he saw Neal was sitting at the edge of his chair with a smile he could hardly contain on his face. The FBI agent realized his wife may have been right. Maybe Neal did know one of these kids. The song ended and was quickly followed by Paradise By The Dashboard Light, a song he actually knew. After the group had left the stage, Neal slowly sat back in his chair. He seemed to pay less attention to the other groups, although he tried his best not to show it. Peter decided his wife's gut feeling was probably more accurate than his own. In this case.

* * *

Neal could hardly believe what he had just seen. Blaine had grown so much since the last time he had seen him. Of course he hadn't thought Blaine would have stayed the cute but way too energetic six-year-old, but seeing him again, even from afar, had still been a shock. And in that last number, Blaine had clearly been singing and dancing with another boy, which was something Neal had never really thought about. Sure, Blaine's choice of clothing had always been a bit weird, with his never ending bow ties and suspenders, but at the time, Neal – or Cooper, as his name had been back then – had never considered the possibility Blaine could be gay.

The rest of the competition went by in a blur as he wondered how Blaine would react if he saw him here. Maybe he didn't want to see Neal. After all, he had never answered any of the letters Neal had sent him during the years he had been gone. Of course, he couldn't have answered the first ones because Neal had never given an address, but in his first letter after his arrest, he had included the address of the prison and had asked for Blaine's cell phone number so he could call him. But even though Blaine had been ignoring him, that didn't mean Neal cared any less. Which was why he had asked Mozzie to keep an eye on his brother for him. Over the years, Mozzie had done his best to keep him posted, but the series of pictures he had received hadn't prepared him for the man he had seen on the stage earlier.

When the last group had finally performed, Neal shot out of his chair, hoping the singers would go to the lobby while they waited for the decision of the judges. He remembered just in time that he wasn't alone and turned to his friends.

“Shall we go to the lobby and have something to drink? It can take a while before the judges come back.” The others nodded and followed him out. While leaving the room, he deliberately hung back to discuss the performances with Elizabeth, anxious to keep up his act. He knew Mozzie saw right through him and Peter probably did too, but he tried anyway, partly to keep himself in control. In the lobby, he saw several show choir groups spread out in between the people of the audience, but he didn't see the group he was looking for. He noticed Mozzie was looking around as well, but with his height, he didn't have much chance of finding the New Directions. Nearby, the sound of a girl who was talking very loudly and very fast caught his attention. He turned around towards the noise. His eyes were immediately drawn to a very tall boy who stood looking somewhat sheepishly next to the girl who was the source of the noise. She was analysing their own performance and that of the other groups. Behind the two, a group of teenagers were talking animatedly among each other. As Neal scanned the group, he didn't notice the two boys walking hand in hand towards the group, one slightly taller than the other. The shorter boy looked at Neal and suddenly stopped in his tracks, startling his companion.

“Blaine? What's wrong?”

Neal turned his head to see Blaine staring at him with a shocked expression on his face, while the boy next to him – the one who had spoken in a shockingly high voice – looked between the two with a concerned frown. Neal swallowed nervously before addressing the boy before him.

“Hey Blaine. Long time no see.”

He watched Blaine struggle to find his voice again. When he finally did, his voice shook so hard Neal was somewhat surprised Blaine could speak at all.

“Coop?”

Neal smiled softly when he heard his old nickname. He stepped closer to Blaine, but the boy with the high voice, who was still holding Blaine's hand, went to stand protectively in front of Blaine.

“Who are you?” he asked, almost accusingly. Before Neal could give an answer, Blaine gently pushed the other boy aside and took one step forward. He squeezed his friend's – boyfriend's? – hand before letting it go and taking another step. He looked shocked and confused and almost a bit scared, but he came closer anyway. After a long moment of hesitation, he asked: “What are you doing here?”

It wasn't what Neal had expected to be asked, but he couldn't blame Blaine for not knowing what to say or which question to ask first. After all, they hadn't seen each other for ten years. In fact, it was a small miracle Blaine recognized him at all, considering he had only been six when Neal – Cooper – had left. And adding pictures in the letters had been too risky when he was on the run and too depressing when he was in prison. The orange jump suit just wasn't that photogenic.

“I came to watch you perform.” Neal noticed that most of the other teenagers had turned to watch the interaction and he knew Peter, Mozzie and Elizabeth were probably listening as well. But he couldn't care less, because Blaine was finally here. Blaine was taken aback by Neal's answer.

“How did you know I'd be here?”

“I have my sources.” Neal hesitated. This was it, the moment that would define their relationship. Even though he was afraid of how this might end, he continued. “Listen Blaine, I know you might not want to have anything to do with me. You ignoring my letters all these years surely points in that direction,” he said with a pained smile. “But I hope you know... I want you to know that I still care about you. I want... No, I would like for us to get to know each other again. But I'll understand if you don't want me in your life anymore.” He stopped, unable to go on when he thought of that possibility. He looked up at Blaine again, whose jaw had dropped slightly during Neal's speech.

“Coop...,” he whispered, then stopped, seemingly as speechless as Neal was. Suddenly he closed the small distance between them with two large steps and unexpectedly threw his arms around his older brother. Neal tensed instinctively, but reciprocated the hug almost immediately. They stood there holding each other for a while, but eventually broke off their hug, both aware of the many curious gazes upon them. Neal glanced back at Peter, who was looking at the two of them with a surprised smile on his face. Elizabeth stood next to him, looking moved and triumphant at the same time, a look mirrored on Mozzie's face. The consultant turned his gaze back at Blaine and saw him sharing a meaningful look with the boy he had been holding hands with earlier. When Blaine noticed his staring, he grabbed the other boy's hand again and pulled him forwards.

“Kurt, this is Cooper, my brother. Coop, this is Kurt. He's my boyfriend,” he said without hesitation. Blaine looked at Neal sternly, as if daring him to make a remark. But Neal didn't care about his little brother's sexuality, as long as he was happy. He extended his hand towards Kurt.

“Actually, it's Neal these days. Neal Caffrey. Nice to meet you.”

Neal didn't miss how surprised Blaine seemed to be to hear that, but didn't understand why. He had told Blaine about changing his name in one of his letters – even though Mozzie hadn't approved – and had explained his motivations for doing so. Even though Neal had stopped expecting an answer after a while, he had always hoped Blaine would at least read his letters.

“Likewise. I'd be lying if I said I've heard a lot about you. Up until now I didn't even know Blaine had a brother,” he said, looking somewhat disapproving at Blaine.

“I can't blame him,” Neal answered. “It's been quite a while.” Neal let go of Kurt's hand and smiled at his (grown-up) little brother. “You were great up there,” Neal said, then added, “you all were.” The teenagers surrounding him all beamed with pride.

At that moment the annoyingly loud girl that had caught Neal's attention earlier reappeared and started scolding the others for standing around doing nothing instead of following her. Kurt and several of the other teenagers rolled their eyes.

“Just ignore her,” he told Neal. “That's just Rachel. Being annoying is in her nature.”

Without saying a word, Blaine suddenly stepped forward, grabbed Neal's forearm and pulled him away from the crowd towards an empty room nearby. He closed the door behind them and turned around slowly.

“Coop...,” he said, once again. Then, after a pause, “...how can you be here? Where have you been all these years? Couldn't you have contacted me? You could have at least called me or written me a letter or something. To let me know you were alright, or not dead, at least. I reckoned something must've happened. Otherwise you wouldn't have just disappeared like that.” Blaine stopped to take a deep breath. He had tears in his eyes, but he was trying hard to blink them away. Neal felt a lump in his throat growing bigger at the sight of his little brother's anguish.

“Blaine...,” he whispered, then stopped to swallow the lump. “I did write. Didn't you get my letters? I've been writing to you since the day I left.” Blaine shook his head dumbstruck.

“I never received any of them.”

“No wonder you never answered,” Neal said with a relieved smile. “I thought it was because you hated me for leaving.”

“Of course not. You're my brother. I could never hate you. I just wanted you to let me know you were alright.” Blaine laughed in disbelief. “And now you are here! Very Nicholas Sparks, I might add. But how? How did you find me here? And your name is Neal now?”

“That's a really long story, one we don't have time for right now. As to your question how I found you: I had a friend keep an eye on you when I couldn't do it myself. He found out about the competitions and that you'd be coming to New York for Nationals.”

“I'm glad you came.”

“So am I.”

“Maybe we should be heading back. Kurt will be wondering where we are.”

“He's cute. How long have you two been together?”

Blaine smiled. “A bit over a year.” Blaine's smile dropped slightly. “You don't mind me being gay?”

Neal stared at him, confused.

“What? Of course not! I have a colleague who's gay. Why?”

Blaine looked at the floor, trying to hide his expression. Suddenly it dawned on Neal.

“Does mum know?” Blaine nodded.

“Did she mind?” Blaine hesitated, then nodded again. Neal cursed silently.

“Well, don't listen to her. What does she know about it? As long as you have someone who makes you happy, it doesn't matter what that person's gender is.”

As he was speaking, Neal saw Blaine's smile returning and inwardly congratulated himself for placing that smile there.

“Come on, let's go back. People might start thinking I have kidnapped you. And that would bring me in a lot of trouble.” Blaine looked confused. “Don't worry, I'll tell you later.”

With that, the two brothers left the room and rejoined the New Directions and Neal's companions.

* * *

“So, you have a brother.” With these words Peter broke the silence while they were walking to the car. Neal sighed. He knew he would have to have this conversation with Peter at some point, better to just get it over with. After watching the New Directions win and agreeing with Blaine that they would get together the day after (exchanging phone numbers in the process), both parties had decided to call it a day and go home (or to the hotel in the case of the show choir from Ohio).

“Yes, in fact I do.”

“Care to explain why you never told me this?”

“I guess saying 'no' isn't an option?” he asked without much hope. Peter gave him a stern look, indicating he would get his answers whether Neal liked it or not. “Fine. To be fair, no one in my life knows about Blaine,” Neal said, then added after a meaningful look from his fellow conman, “except for Mozzie, of course.”

“Of course,” Peter muttered. “Why not?”

“To protect him.” Peter raised an eyebrow. “I have made a lot of enemies over the years, Peter. I didn't want anyone to be able to link the two of us and go after him to get to me, so I legally changed my name when I left Ohio.”

“So your real name is...”

“Neal Caffrey. But it used to be Cooper Anderson.” Neal knew Peter would check that name the moment he arrived at the office the following day. He wasn't sure how much his partner would find, though. After all, they had grown up in Witness Protection and he didn't know exactly how long he had been Cooper Anderson.

“Go on.”

“There isn't much to say, really. I left home when I was eighteen, Blaine was only six back then. I legally changed my name and left Ohio right after that. And you know most of the rest.”

At this point, they had almost reached the car. For a while, Peter didn't say anything.

“Why did you leave?”

“I had my reasons.” Peter nodded, he knew what Neal had said about his father being a dirty cop and thought that might have had something to do with it.

“Did you ever go back?”

“A few times, just to see if he was alright.” Neal hesitated. “I never made contact, though. I thought it might be easier for him and I didn't want anyone to know we're related.”

“To protect him?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

Neal swallowed in discomfort. “A year before you arrested me. But only from a distance.” Elizabeth looked at him sympathetically.

“Peter, maybe you can leave the third degree for what it is tonight,” she said softly. “Tomorrow you can check out everything you can find about the two of them and if you have more questions, you can ask him then.”

Neal smirked. Elizabeth knew Peter just as well as he did. But apparently, Peter wasn't entirely done yet. He turned to Mozzie.

“So you knew about this?”

“It's not against the law to keep a friend's secret.”

Neal smiled gratefully. He turned back to Peter. “You done? I'd like to go home now. Unless you really want to interrogate me, but then I'd have to contact my lawyer.”

“No, I'm done,” He opened the door of the car and before he got in, he added, “for now.” Neal rolled his eyes and got in in the back with Mozzie. None of them noticed the man staring after them from the shadow of the building as their car drove away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“So, if I understand correctly, you changed your name to Neal Caffrey, became a forger and an art thief–”

“Alleged art thief.”

“–and then decided to go and work for the man who arrested you in the first place?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“And you don't think that's just a little bit weird?”

“You're starting to sound like Mozzie,” Neal answered with a roll of his eyes. “He thinks I have Stockholm syndrome.”

“That's the little guy with the big glasses, right?” Blaine asked.

“Look who's talking,” Neal muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Yes, that's Mozzie. He's the one who's been keeping me up to date.”

“Right.”

They were walking through Central Park. There weren't too many people around them. Ahead of them was a woman with two small children, both clutching little paper bags in their tiny hands, probably on their way to feed the ducks. Behind them, a man was casually strolling in the same direction they were, fiddling with his cell phone. Some people were sitting on the benches, enjoying the sun, pretending Summer had come early. Peter had allowed Neal to take the day off to give him the chance to catch up with Blaine before the latter had to go back to Ohio. After all, they had ten years of catching up to do.

“So... am I supposed to call you Neal now?” Blaine asked hesitantly.

“Yes, preferably. I know it's going to take some getting used to, but I haven't been Cooper Anderson for a really long time. And I left him behind for a reason.”

“To protect me.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then, _Neal._ ” Blaine said in an almost teasing tone, accepting his brother probably knew what he was doing.

And he did. The proof was just a few feet behind them, but neither brother had noticed, too wrapped up in their long-due reunion. The man was still holding his cell phone in his hand, every now and again looking up to see whether he was still going in the right direction. They were nearing the exit. The woman had stopped. The youngest of the two children was crying because he had tripped and dropped the bag, thereby spilling all of the bread on the ground. Some of the bystanders were staring at the scene, but Neal and Blaine barely paid any attention to it.

“Are you hungry?” Neal asked. “I'll buy you lunch.”

“Sure. Do you mind if I invite Kurt? I told him we could have lunch together, the three of us.”

“Of course I don't mind, squirt. I'd love to get to know him.” Neal smiled. “Besides, I wouldn't want him to think you're neglecting him, or something,” he added teasingly.

While Blaine stepped away, pulling out his cell phone to call Kurt, Neal looked around. He noticed the woman had finally managed to calm down the toddler, promising him he and his sister could share the remaining bag. While she was pulling a handkerchief out of her handbag to clean the boy's face, Neal's gaze went to the man standing a few feet away from them, partially turned away, talking to someone on his phone.

“Okay, we'll wait for you at the exit,” he heard Blaine saying behind him. “Yeah, love you too. See you soon.”

Blaine ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket. Looking at the street, he saw a grey van stopping near the entrance of the park. Two men dressed in overalls and wearing caps jumped out, pulling out tool boxes before opening the back doors of the van. When they disappeared out of sight, Blaine turned back to Neal, who seemed to be looking intently at a man a bit further away.

“Coo–,” he broke off, realising his mistake. “Neal.” Somewhat reluctantly, Neal turned away from the man who had caught his attention and who he suspected had been following them.

“Kurt's on his way. We didn't really know where we could go without going outside of your radius, so he's meeting us here.” Blaine frowned. He hadn't seen his brother for years, but he didn't have to know him very well to know Neal wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. “Something wrong?”

Neal looked sharply at Blaine. He didn't want to scare him, but his gut told him staying where they were wasn't a good idea.

“Maybe you should call him back, tell him we'll pick him up at the hotel.” Neal was really worried now. He had noticed the grey van as well. And the fact that it didn't have plates. He tried not to show his unease. He didn't know what the man behind them wanted, but if he realised Neal had spotted him, he might decide to execute whatever he had planned before Neal had the chance to get Blaine to safety. Pulling out his phone, Neal took Blaine by the arm and started walking away from the exit.

“Let's make a detour, the park is beautiful this time of the year,” he said casually. Lowering his voice so that only Blaine would hear, he quickly added, “Keep walking. If I say run, you run. Got it?”

“What? Run where? Neal, what's going on?” Blaine asked nervously.

“We're being followed.” Neal was too busy dialling Mozzie's number to notice how pale Blaine's face had suddenly become.

“Moz, it's me. … What? No, of course not. Listen, we don't have time for that right now, I need your help. Blaine and I have a tail. … Central Park. They have a van, grey, no plates. I need to–”

Before he could go on, he noticed the man from earlier running towards them, his face now hidden by a black mask.

“Blaine, run!” Neal shouted, pushing his brother forward. In the moment it took Blaine to react, the masked man had caught up with them and the men in the overalls from earlier, both of them wearing masks as well, had appeared in front of them, blocking their escape route. Being the escape artist he was, Neal turned and looked for another way out. Doing so, he caught a glimpse of the gun the masked man was holding. Neal pushed Blaine to the side, hoping the latter would get the hint and run, and got ready to confront their attackers. But before he could say anything to distract them, he felt a sharp pain going through his head. The last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to meet him before he lost consciousness.

* * *

Blaine felt Neal push him away and stumbled. He turned to look at what was happening. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should be running or alerting the police or something, but he couldn't get his legs to move. He saw his brother getting hit in the head with the butt of a gun by one of the workmen and watched him collapse.

“Neal!” He wanted to rush forward and help the unconscious conman, but before he could do so, the third man had stepped in front of him, waving his gun in Blaine's face.

“You're coming with us, pretty boy. If I were you, I wouldn't resist, otherwise I'm afraid I'll have to order my men to put a bullet in your brother's head,” the man said sweetly. Blaine looked back at Neal and saw one of the goons aim a gun at his brother's head.

“Please, don't...,” he begged. “I'll come, just leave him alone.”

“I thought you might say that,” the man next to him responded happily. Blaine smelled something he hadn't noticed before, but when he started turning his head to see what it was, a strong hand suddenly pushed something against his mouth and nose while the other hand held him tightly to keep him from struggling, which he did instinctively. Before he slipped into darkness, he caught a last glimpse of Neal and hoped his kidnappers would keep their word and wouldn't harm him.

* * *

When Peter arrived at Central Park, NYPD was already at the scene, talking to eye witnesses. Looking around, he saw a young woman trying to soothe two crying children while an officer was standing awkwardly next to her, waiting for her statement. Some older people were standing a bit further away, talking to another officer and gesturing wildly towards the entrance. The person he was looking for was reluctantly being tended to by a paramedic. He was pressing gauze to the back of his head, while the paramedic shone in his eyes with a penlight and asked him one question after the other.

“Do you feel dizzy or nauseous?”

“No, I told you, I'm fine,” Neal answered, the irritation evident in his tone.

Peter sighed in relief at the sight of his partner. He didn't know yet what had happened, but he was glad Neal seemed somewhat alright. When Mozzie had called him and told him about Neal's disrupted phone call, Peter had dropped the file he had been reading and had gone straight to the park, dreading what he might encounter there.

“Peter!” Neal had finally spotted him and immediately jumped away from the protesting paramedic. “Peter, they took him. They took Blaine,” he said frantically. “Someone was following us, but I didn't notice in time and there was a van and–”

“Neal, calm down. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine. They just knocked me out. They had guns, Peter. What if they hurt him? Or killed him? I'd never–”

Peter decided to interrupt Neal's rambling before he worked himself up into a panic.

“Neal, listen, we'll find him, okay? And I'm sure they haven't killed him. If they wanted him dead, they wouldn't have taken him.”

Neal nodded, accepting Peter's logic. Peter's FBI attitude kicked in.

“They must want something from him, or from you. Probably you. Do you have any idea who they were?”

“No, they were wearing caps and masks. One of them... I think he had been following us. Damn it!” Peter jumped when Neal suddenly cursed. “I should have paid attention, I should have noticed! Then this wouldn't have happened and Blaine would have been safe.”

He started pacing, the hand holding the gauze still pressed against the back of his head.

“You don't know that, Neal.”

Suddenly, Neal stopped in his tracks. Peter followed his gaze to the entrance of the park, where a boy who looked familiar was standing, looking around at the controlled chaos.

“Kurt,” Peter heard Neal whisper.

When Kurt saw them, his eyes widened and he quickly approached them.

“Neal? What happened? Where's Blaine? Is he okay?”

“I don't know.”

“What does that mean? Where is he?”

“I don't know, Kurt. I wish I did.” Neal saw Kurt was getting worked up and tried to remain as calm as possible, even though he was as worried as Kurt was. He had to suppress the urge to start pacing again. Fortunately, Peter was standing next to him, keeping him somewhat grounded.

“Kurt,” he began, “maybe you should sit down for a minute. Come on.” Peter led Kurt to one of the benches, followed closely by Neal.

“Kurt, someone has abducted Blaine.”

“...What? But... Why?”

“We don't know yet, but we think it might be because of Neal.” Kurt looked sharply at the conman standing in front of him. “Would it be okay if I asked you some questions? It might help us find Blaine.” Kurt nodded, tearing his gaze away from Neal.

“Does Blaine have enemies you know of?” Kurt shook his head. “Have you ever noticed someone following him or has he ever told you about something like that?”

“No. I thought you said this was about him,” Kurt said with a pointed look at Neal.

“That's most likely, but for now, I want to keep all possibilities open. So, you never noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That's it? What about Blaine? What's going to happen now? How are you going to find him if you don't even know who took him?” Peter wanted to explain what was going to happen in order to calm the panicking teen down, but Kurt didn't give him a chance to interrupt, instead looking accusingly at Neal. “What about you? What are you going to do? You do realise this is your fault, don't you? He was fine until you showed up.”

“I know.” Somehow Neal's whisper managed to shut Kurt up. “And I swear, Kurt, if I had known this would happen, I never would have come to the competition, or never would've made contact at the very least. I know he was safer without me in his life. I'm sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt stared at him with an unreadable look on his face, but didn't say anything.

“Let me take you back to the hotel, Kurt,” Peter said. “I'm going to have to talk to your director as well.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Okay. What do we have?”

Peter entered the conference room where Jones and Diana were already looking through some files. In fact, Blaine's abduction wasn't their investigation, but Kimberly Rice's, considering this wasn't a white collar crime. But given that Neal was involved and none of them actually trusted Rice ever since the Wilkes fiasco, Peter had decided to 'lend Rice a hand' by conducting his own investigation.

“Well, there isn't much,” Diana started. “We've looked for files on Blaine Anderson and Cooper Anderson, but we couldn't find much. We couldn't even find a birth certificate for either of them.”

“What? Have you tried the show choir angle?”

“Of course. Most of what we have found is footage from the competitions Blaine has participated in. I have to say, the kid's got talent.”

“Seems to run in the family,” Peter muttered to himself, remembering Neal's singing session with June. “Jones?”

“I looked for known enemies of Neal's who might hold a grudge and be able to pull this off, but even excluding those who are in prison or dead, the list is rather... elaborate.”

“Peter, I don't think we can do this without Neal,” Diana added hesitantly. Jones frowned, but nodded his agreement.

Peter sighed deeply, looking at the list Jones had handed him. “You're right. There are too many possible suspects. Neal might be able to narrow the list.”

“How is he?” Jones asked.

“Worried. He feels responsible for what happened. Mozzie's with him now.” Peter sighed. “Let's go over what we already know. We can talk to Neal afterwards.”

Jones and Diana both nodded.

“Okay, so Neal and Blaine arrived at Central Park at a quarter to twelve,” Peter summed up. “Neal said he suspected someone had been following them the whole time, but he didn't notice until they were at the exit around half past one. At the same time a grey van without plates was parked near the entrance. Jones, do we have anything on that van or the two men?”

“Not much. There was a camera hanging near the entrance, but as you said, it was a nondescript grey van, no plates. The men were wearing caps, hiding their faces from the camera. The techs are looking at the footage right now. Maybe they can get at least a partial description of them. Problem is that we probably won't get to see the results unless Rice lets us.”

“That could be a problem. On the other hand, she owes me and Neal for what happened last time. She might be a bit more cooperative if I work that angle. Might be worth a shot. What about the man in the park? Do we have any footage of him?”

“The techs are working on that as well,” Diana answered. “A camera at one of the other entrances did pick up his image, but like the other two, his face was hidden by a cap.”

“Wait. Jones, you said the camera at the entrance where Blaine was taken picked up the van. Any chance it picked up the actual kidnapping as well?”

“Not sure. Rice confiscated the tape before we had the chance to watch the whole thing, but I believe it did.”

“Damn it,” Peter cursed softly. “Guess I'll have to play nice, then, if we ever want to see that tape.” Peter picked up the list of possible suspects again. “Assuming Neal wasn't lying to me last night, it's been seven years since Neal has seen Blaine for the last time, and that was only from afar. He left home three years before that. The only contact between them has been letters from Neal to Blaine but not the other way round. And then we still have Mozzie stalking Blaine over the years, but I'm assuming he never made contact in any way.”

“Whoever is behind this might have gotten lucky,” Diana said. “Maybe they didn't really know who Blaine was and just took him, figuring he might be important to Neal.”

“I don't know,” Jones mused. “It seems too much of a coincidence. I mean, the guy doesn't see his little brother for ten years and the day after their reunion Blaine gets kidnapped.”

“I agree.” Peter looked up from the list of names in his hand. “On the other hand, this might not be about Neal at all. What do we know about their family?”

“As much as we know about them,” Jones said, rolling his eyes. “They're like ghosts.”

Peter thought of what he knew about Neal and his past. For example, he knew Neal's father had been a dirty cop, but the conman had never said anything about his mother. For all he knew, she was some celebrity or extremely rich or the complete opposite. He'd have to ask Neal about that. Momentarily, he considered telling Jones and Diana what he knew, but decided against it. Taking into account how much effort it had taken Peter to get his partner to talk about his father, Peter figured Neal didn't want everyone knowing about that. He could always tell them later if it turned out to be important.

“Let's keep all roads open for now. I'll go talk to Neal, see if he can add anything or maybe narrow down the list. Jones, Diana, it might be a good idea to go talk to the glee kids again, maybe they know more about Blaine's family.”

Jones and Diana nodded simultaneously and stood up, gathering their papers, and left the room. Peter sighed and looked at the extended list a last time, before taking out his cell phone and hitting speed dial 1.

“Hey, hon. I don't think I'll be able to make it to dinner. … I know, I promised, but something happened. Blaine got kidnapped. … Yes, the same one. … He's pretty upset. I'm going there right now. … I don't have a choice, El. He might know something we don't. We hardly have any information about his family or Blaine and we have a ridiculously long list of possible suspects. And if I know Neal, he'll want to do whatever he can to get Blaine back safely. I'd rather keep him involved in the investigation and keep an eye on him than discover he has done something stupid behind my back, something that might send him back to prison. … Yeah, I'll tell him. I've got to go. … Love you too, hon.”

* * *

When Peter arrived at Neal's place, Mozzie and Neal were sitting at the table. There was an open bottle of wine on the table and a glass next to Neal's hand that looked as if it hadn't been touched yet, while the glass in Mozzie's hand was almost empty. Neal looked up when Peter entered the flat with an almost hopeful expression, which fell when he realised it was Peter.

“What's happening? Have you found anything yet?”

Neal seemed to want to ask more, so Peter quickly interrupted him.

“Neal,” he started, sitting down next to his partner, “Blaine's kidnapping isn't my investigation.”

“...What? But...”

“Officially, it's Rice's case. I know how you feel about her, I don't like it either, but I didn't get any choice in this. We're not Missing Persons and especially you are too emotionally involved.”

Neal was shaking his head, his dismay clear on his face.

“So that's it? You're not going to do anything? Just leave this to Rice?”

“I never said that. I merely stated that, officially, this isn't my case. Having said that, I should add that Jones, Diana and I have been looking into it as much as we can. The problem is that we haven't been able to find much about either you as Cooper Anderson or Blaine and that we don't have a clear suspect. We do have a list of possibilities but considering how long it is and the fact that we can't actually be sure whether this really is about you and not about Blaine, we haven't been able to narrow anything down.”

“So you don't have any suspects at all?”

“No.”

Peter watched as Neal sighed deeply, putting his head in his hands. When the young conman looked up again, he answered Peter's gaze with a determined look.

“I can help, Peter. You can't leave me out of the loop on this. I know things no one else does.”

“I know. That's why I'm here. I have some questions.” Neal nodded. “Listen, Neal, I'm not going to keep you out of the loop, but I can't let you investigate actively either. You're too involved and therefore more likely to make mistakes.” Neal opened his mouth, seemingly about to protest, but Peter cut him off. “Neal, I'm not going to argue about this, okay? We're doing this my way. There's too much at stake to make mistakes.”

Neal still didn't look very happy with this course of events, but didn't argue. Peter was certain his partner would have Mozzie conduct his own investigation, but he was fine with that as long as it kept Neal from doing something stupid. Besides, Peter knew Mozzie's sometimes questionable sources could be of great help.

“What do you need to know?” Neal asked resignedly.

Suddenly, Peter realised Neal was giving him permission to ask him just about anything about him and his past. Of course, he didn't really have another choice if they wanted to find Blaine, but Peter did know how important it was to Neal to keep his past to himself.

“First of all, I had Jones and Diana dig up any information they could find on Blaine and Cooper Anderson, but they kept hitting dead ends. Any idea why that might be?”

Neal swallowed uncomfortably, but answered after a few moments.

“Do you remember me telling you about my father?”

Peter nodded, frowning in confusion. “You told me he was a corrupt cop.”

“Yes. That's not all. The reason why there isn't much to find about us is that we were placed in Witness Protection after he was arrested.”

“...You grew up in WitSec?” Peter asked, shocked. That was one possibility he hadn't considered before.

Neal nodded. “I was only two when he was arrested and we were taken away.”

“Do you know what your father was arrested for?”

“No. I didn't ask. Ellen, his partner, tried to tell me on my eighteenth birthday, but at the time I didn't want to know. I only knew that everything I had grown up believing about my dad was a lie.” Neal looked at his hands, lost in his memories.

“And Blaine?”

“He's my half-brother. His dad walked out on us when he discovered my mum was pregnant.”

Neal's tone as he said this revealed he didn't want to elaborate on that, so Peter decided to change the subject for now. He could always ask for more information if he needed it.

“Neal, Jones made a list of possible suspects. It might be useful if you looked through it.”

Neal nodded and accepted the list. Mozzie, who had yet to say anything, went to stand behind Neal to look at the list as well. He pointed to one of the names.

“You can remove Brent from the list. I've heard from a very reliable source he was killed by the Russian mob a few months ago.” Neal picked up a pen and scratched the name out.

“What about Randall? We know for a fact he hates your guts.” Mozzie asked.

“Hm, it's not his style. He may not like me, but he's the kind of guy who wants to outsmart his enemies. He's not the kidnapping type.”

As Mozzie and Neal examined the list, more names were scratched out and some were added, eventually leaving only six names. He handed the list back to Peter, who nodded appreciatively.

“Only six candidates left,” he said somewhat sarcastically. “I guess every little bit helps. I'll have Jones check these out.”

“Peter, can I go with you to the office? I promise I won't be in the way.”

“Neal –”

“Please, Peter. I need to do something or I'll go crazy in here. Besides, I might be able to help.”

Peter held up his hand, interrupting the rambling. “I was actually going to ask you to come with me. You're right, you're our main source of information at the moment and I think Rice will want to talk to you as well.” Neal rolled his eyes as Mozzie huffed indignantly, muttering profanities under his breath. “I know, I don't like her either, but humour me, okay? She might be able to help us find Blaine.”

Neal nodded and stood up, taking his jacket from the back of his chair. Before they left the flat, he turned to Mozzie. “If you find anything...”

“I'll let you know,” Mozzie finished the sentence, smiling sadly.

“Thank you.”

* * *

Rice sighed in annoyance for what seemed the millionth time in the last hour.

“Neal, if you want us to find your brother, you're going to have to give us something.”

As Peter had expected, the conversation between Neal and Rice wasn't going well. Just like Peter, Rice had been trying to find out who was the real target of the kidnapping and why they hardly had any information on Blaine and Cooper Anderson, but Neal was more hesitant about telling Rice about his past in WitSec than he had been with Peter. Maybe it was because this was looking more like an interrogation than anything else.

“I've already given you enough. It doesn't matter why we were in WitSec. That doesn't have anything to with this.”

“You can't know that, Caffrey. Maybe the people you were hidden from all those years ago finally got lucky.”

“Blaine wasn't even born yet when we were placed in WitSec.”

“That doesn't mean they wouldn't take him to get to whichever of your parents was originally targeted.”

“Then they've taken the wrong guy.”

“Why?” Rice asked, exasperated.

“Fine,” Neal finally conceded. “We were placed in WitSec because of my father, who was arrested right before that. If this is about my father, then they've taken the wrong guy because Blaine isn't even related to him. He's my half-brother. He has never even met my father. Or his own.”

Rice looked at him with a surprised expression on her face. She quickly hid her surprise, though, and nodded.

“Anything else you need to know?”

Peter knew Neal had already told Rice everything he could without incriminating himself and without revealing too much about his past.

“Not at the moment, no. But I want you to be available at all times, just in case.”

“Okay,” Neal agreed. Peter suspected Neal had more than one reason to concede to Rice's request. Just as Rice was about to leave the room, Neal called her back.

“Agent Rice.” She turned to look at him again. “I have given you the information you needed. Maybe you could give me something in return?” he asked tentatively.

Rice looked suspicious.

“What?”

“The tape. From the camera at the entrance where Blaine was taken.”

“No,” Rice said resolutely. “You know I can't just give you that, Caffrey.”

“I know you can't. I just want to see it. That's all.”

Neal was looking hopefully at Rice, who seemed unsure what to answer. Peter decided he might be able to persuade her.

“Rice, it might be a good idea to let him watch it. Maybe he'll recognise one of the men.” Peter knew it was a long shot. Neal had already told them he hadn't seen any of the men's faces because of the caps and the masks. But it was worth the try. Rice looked from Neal to Peter and back to Neal. At last, her gaze settled on Peter.

“Peter, can I talk to you for a minute?” She motioned with her head to the door. Peter nodded and followed her out of the room.

“What are you doing, Burke?” she asked vehemently before he had properly shut the door.

“What do you mean?”

“I've seen that tape and Neal's already said it himself. He won't recognise those men, even if he watches that tape a hundred times.”

“You don't know that. You don't know Neal. He might see something you have missed because you don't know what to look for.”

“And he does? 'Cause from what I've heard, he doesn't have a clue who's behind this either.”

“Not yet. But that's because he doesn't have all the information yet. Letting him watch the tape may turn out to be to our advantage.”

Peter knew he had said something wrong when Rice's expression changed from displeased to thunderous.

“ _Our_ advantage? No, this is _my_ investigation, Burke, and you had better stay out of it.”

“I know that, and I've told Neal as well.” Peter knew he was very close to losing this argument, but he had one more card to play, the one that might be crucial to get Rice to cooperate.

“Listen, Rice. I know this is your case and I will respect that. But in turn, I want you to keep us in the loop. Because the fact remains that Neal doesn't trust you. The only reason he's given you any information at all is because his brother's life depends on it. He does trust me, however, and he will be more inclined to tell me things he wouldn't tell anyone else, things that might turn out to be relevant for this investigation. I suggest we work together on this. You know even better than I do that the longer Blaine stays in their hands, the worse his chances of survival get. If we join forces, we might be able to find him quickly, before they do anything to harm him.”

Rice didn't look happy with what he had just said, but Peter knew she couldn't deny the truth of his words. At last, she nodded.

“Fine, I'll keep you in the loop. But you'd do well to remember this is my case, understood?”

“Understood,” Peter agreed. “And the tape?”

Rice shook her head. “I still don't think it's a good idea to show him that.” Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Rice didn't give him the chance. “Peter, you don't know what effect watching that might have on him. You have no idea how close he came to being killed, not to mention the effect of having to watch his kid brother being kidnapped.”

“He can handle it.”

Rice looked at him sharply.

“Fine. But I hope you know what you're doing.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Peter was watching both Neal and the screen in front of them, trying to gauge his partner's reaction to the images. Rice had given them a copy of the video that had been put together by the techs, which was composed of images from the different cameras Neal, Blaine and their faceless stalker had passed on their walk through Central Park. As they had expected, the man's face was hardly visible because he kept his head down and the cap he was wearing hid most of his face from the cameras. They watched as a woman tried to console a crying toddler somewhere in the background and Blaine once again pulled out his cell phone. They saw him put his phone away and tilt his head a bit in confusion while he looked at the entrance. As the Blaine and Neal on the screen walked away from the entrance, the man following them said something in his phone and quickly pulled out a mask and put it on. The woman in the left corner of the screen stood stock-still while three men cornered the two brothers and knocked one of them unconscious. Peter's hands balled into fists when the original stalker threatened Blaine with a gun. Looking to the side, he noticed Neal had gone visibly paler when one of the goons had aimed a gun at the unconscious figure on the screen. The conman clenched his fists when the Blaine on the screen was drugged and carried out of the park into the van. The van disappeared at the right corner of the screen, leaving the unconscious figure lying on the ground in the park.

Peter paused the video as Neal shoved his chair back and turned away, his hands going through his hair.

“Neal...” Peter started.

“Don't,” Neal snapped. He sighed heavily. Peter stayed silent, waiting for Neal to calm down. At last, Neal turned back around.

“Let's watch it again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

_“... So you had better do as I say, Mr. Caffrey, if you want your brother back in one piece.”_

The screen turned to black, erasing Blaine's figure for the second time. Neal and Mozzie were sitting at Neal's kitchen table in front of the laptop. They had already seen the ransom DVD twice since Neal had found it in the mail, almost twenty hours after Blaine's kidnapping. At least now they knew who they were dealing with.

“I can't believe Mitchell waited all this time to get his revenge,” Mozzie mused. “How long has it been? Eight years?”

“Almost nine.” Neal stood up and started to pace around the room.

“I wonder how he found you, or how he knew about Blaine.”

“That doesn't matter right now, Moz. What matters is that we get Blaine out of there.”

“Right. So what do we do?”

“Find the money to pay the ransom.”

“Well, yes. Finding money won't be a problem. But what if Mitchell doesn't keep his word?” Mozzie hesitated because he knew Neal wouldn't like what he was about to suggest. “Maybe we should tell Peter...”

“We can't.”

“Neal...”

“You've heard Mitchell. If we involve the FBI, he'll kill Blaine.” Mozzie was about to say something in return, but Neal didn't give him the chance. “I agree it sounds like a line from a bad kidnapping film, but I know Mitchell. He's a man of his word, and I've seen him kill people over less. He's too dangerous not to take seriously.”

Neal continued pacing.

“Neal,” Mozzie tried again, “I still think we should show Peter the DVD. I know what it says about the FBI, but Peter might keep it off the books if you explain the situation.” Mozzie saw he was getting through to his friend. As much as he didn't like the suits, he knew they needed their help to keep Blaine safe. “You know Peter will do anything in his power to help, but he needs information, as much as you can give him. Keeping this from him won't do anyone any good, especially not Blaine.”

“...You're right. You're right.”

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. As Neal opened the door, Peter held up a six-pack and a bottle of cheap wine.

“Care to explain what you meant by 'Look casual'? Oh, hey Moz.”

“Suit.”

“You'll know in a minute. There's something I need to show you.” Neal planted the laptop in front of Peter and pressed 'play'. After the clip had stopped playing, Peter turned to his partner.

“How long have you had this?” he asked, somewhat accusingly.

“I found it in the mail over an hour ago.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, as if he wasn't sure whether to believe him.

“Peter, I wasn't keeping it from you. I'll admit I didn't want to show you because of what Mitchell said, but I did anyway, didn't I?”

“Mitchell? So you know this guy?”

“Yes. His name is Robert Mitchell. I worked with him for a while, but our partnership didn't work out.”

“How come?”

Neal hesitated just a bit before he went on. “His methods... They weren't my style.” Peter knew Neal well enough to know that probably meant Robert Mitchell wasn't afraid of using violence to reach his criminal goals.

“Okay. So what was he talking about on the DVD? Something about money you owe him?”

“Well, I don't really owe him anything. Technically, the money was never his.” Peter raised his eyebrow again. “Fine, I may or may not have sabotaged one of his cons and walked away with the money he was after.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Okay, so you screwed him over, what, eight years ago –”

“Almost nine.”

“– and now he wants that money with interest. And he's keeping Blaine hostage to get what he wants.”

“Yes.”

“Right.” Peter rubbed his face with both hands and looked up at Neal. “Do you think he'd do it? Kill Blaine, I mean.”

“Yes,” Neal answered, without hesitation. “He's a man of his word. If I give him the money, I'm sure he'll let Blaine go free.”

“Neal, you know you can't count on that. It's been almost nine years, people change.”

“It's all we have right now, Peter.”

“I know.”

Peter stared at Neal, who was sitting at the table with slumped shoulders. His instinct told him not to trust a criminal's word, but he knew involving the FBI was a risk as well. Still, he was also aware this was a bluff used by most kidnappers to scare the abducted person's family into complying to their rules. Since he didn't know this Robert Mitchell, he wasn't sure yet which of these options he was dealing with, but he trusted Neal's judgement of character, even if it was a nine-years-old judgement.

“Let's watch the DVD again. Maybe we can narrow down a possible location where they're holding Blaine.”

* * *

It was cold and dark. That was about all Blaine registered with his fuddled mind. He tried to move his arms, but, as before, they wouldn't budge. Neither would his legs, still tied tightly to whichever object he was sitting on – probably a chair, common sense told him. His eyes were still covered, making it hard to guess how much time had passed since he was taken, since he had woken up. For the moment, his life was made up of a succession of events: being kidnapped, waking up with a headache and almost throwing up, getting some water from an invisible person, waking up a second (?) time without being able to remember he had fallen asleep in the first place, getting more water and some bread from the same invisible person, being led to an invisible toilet, being tied up again. At least his hunger had faded since then, subdued by his thirst.

He could hear voices somewhere, but he couldn't understand what they were saying, as if they were behind an invisible closed door. He wasn't sure what was happening or what they wanted from him. Whatever it was, he was glad they wanted him alive, for now.

'I hope Neal is okay,' he thought. He had tried calling out to him a few times, to see if he had been taken as well, but to no avail. After being hit and ordered to shut up – under threat of being made to shut up – he hadn't tried again, too afraid of what his invisible kidnapper might do.

His thoughts went to Kurt next. At least he was safe. Probably worried out of his mind, but safe nonetheless. A quiet sob he had been trying to hold for a long time finally made its escape. He felt his blindfold going slightly damp as he thought of his boyfriend and his friends. His plans and dreams of graduating and following Kurt to New York and finally getting out of Lima were very far away. All he wanted now was to live and to be free and to see his family and friends and Kurt again.

Blaine bit his lip, trying his best to get a grip, but failing at keeping the tears from falling.

* * *

A day had passed since the DVD had arrived. Blaine had been gone for forty-four hours, almost two days. Not that Neal was counting. Once again, he was pacing restlessly around his apartment while Mozzie was sipping wine at the kitchen table. The young conman felt useless. Peter had sent him home “to get some sleep” after spending hours watching the DVD and analysing every little detail of it.

Suddenly, the silence in the room was interrupted by the sound of Neal's cell phone. Without looking at the caller ID, he picked it up, thinking – hoping – it was Peter with news.

“Hello?”

_“Neal? This is Kurt.”_

“Oh, Kurt, hi.”

Disappointment coursed through him, but he tried to keep it out of his voice.

 _“I was wondering if you had any news.”_ Kurt sounded guarded and subdued, as if he were bracing himself for bad news.

“Well, I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you, but I've never been one to follow rules anyway.” Unintentionally, Kurt let out a small laugh as he released the breath he had been holding.

“We don't have him back yet, but I can tell you we have a lot more information now than we started with. We've found out who's behind this.” His statement was followed by a tense silence, so Neal ploughed on, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“It's as we thought. One of my old enemies took Blaine to get me to do what he wants. He sent me a ransom DVD yesterday with his demands.”

_“What does he want from you?”_

“Money. Money that he thinks I still owe him.”

_“You're going to give him his money, right? Do you still have it? Wait, what if he doesn't give Blaine back once he has his money? Maybe you should–”_

“Kurt, slow down. I was getting to that. To answer your first question: yes, I am going to give him what he wants. Anything to get Blaine away from him. And we did think of the possibility that he won't keep his word. The good news is that we think we know where he's keeping Blaine.”

 _“You_ think _you know?”_

“I'm pretty sure of it. Listen Kurt, I know you're worried, but I know this guy and I've worked with him long enough to know his habits. Combine that with what we can see on the DVD, I just know he's there.”

 _“So what's going to happen now? You can't exactly kidnap him back, can you?”_ Kurt asked with a certain amount of his usual sarcasm. _“Can you?”_

“No, I can't,” Neal chuckled and sobered up almost immediately. “I wish I could, but I'm afraid it's not very likely to happen. Either way, this does give us an advantage we didn't have before,” he added, in an attempt to keep the teenager thinking positively.

_“What kind of advantage?”_

“We know his location, which means I can anticipate his actions and take precautions of my own.”

Kurt remained silent, but Neal didn't know what else he could tell him. Then, just as the young conman was about to ask if he was still there, Kurt broke the silence.

_“Hey Neal?”_

“Yeah?”

Kurt hesitated.

_“... I'm sorry for what I said... in the park, when I... when I said this was your fault.”_

“Kurt...”

_“It really wasn't. I was upset and I took it out on you and I'm sorry.”_

“Don't... You don't need to apologise, Kurt. I know you were upset, but you were also right.”

_“No, Neal–”_

“You were, Kurt. I was selfish coming to your competition and now he's paying the price for it. I should never have come.”

_“I'm glad you did. And so was Blaine. Despite everything, I'm glad you came.”_

“How can you say that? If it weren't for me, he would've been safe in Ohio with you.”

Neal stopped abruptly. He needed to regain control of his emotions. Ever since the day in the park, he had been feeling uptight. Somehow, Kurt had managed to bring all of that out in the open, even though Neal hardly even knew his brother's boyfriend. He took a deep breath.

“It doesn't matter. I'll make sure he's safe and then I'll disappear from his life.”

 _“...He doesn't want that,”_ Kurt interjected softly. _“You didn't see him in the hotel afterwards, Neal. When he told me about you. He was so excited you had come, so happy to know you were alright.”_

Kurt chuckled affectionately when he remembered his boyfriend all but jumping on the bed in excitement and delight, like a child on its birthday.

_“He won't blame you either, you know.”_

“You don't know that...”

_“Yes, I do. I know Blaine and I've seen how eager he was to meet up with you. To get to know his big brother again.”_

Neal felt tears prickling in his eyes. He turned towards the balcony, away from the kitchen table, where Mozzie was studying his wine and pretending he wasn't listening in on one side of the conversation. Neal was blinking hard, willing himself to get his emotions in check.

“Kurt, I should go,” he said, clearing his throat. “Peter might call with news.”

_“Oh, okay. Could you do me a favour, though?”_

When Neal didn't answer, Kurt continued.

_“Don't disappear again. You have no idea how much meeting you again meant to him. How much you mean to him. And how much it would hurt him if you left... I don't want to see him get hurt like that. He's been through enough without adding that to the list.”_

Neal didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if he could keep a promise like that, considering who and what he was.

“If he still wants me in his life after all of this is over, I'll stay.”

_“... He will. Bye Neal. Keep me posted, okay?”_

“I will. Bye.”

Neal stayed by the doors of the balcony, needing a moment to regain his composure before he turned back to his friend.

“We should start making plans. Maybe we should try the perfect exchange again. With some modifications, of course.”

“You know it's not perfect, Neal. We still haven't solved the problem of the middle man yet.” Mozzie looked at him thoughtfully.

“What about the Suit? Aren't you going to fill him in on your plans?”

Neal looked away, which Mozzie took as a no.

“You told Kurt you would take precautions, as in 'you alone'.”

The young conman still didn't answer.

“We shouldn't do this on our own, Neal. I think it would be a good idea to accept the help of the FBI.”

“And that's coming from you. The world must've ended while I was on the phone with Kurt.”

Mozzie chuckled.

“I don't know, Moz. What if Mitchell finds out? He'll kill Blaine. And what if we're wrong about his location? There's too many ways this could go wrong.”

“Which is exactly why we should involve the FBI. Even if you don't, Mitchell still might kill Blaine. We've been over this, Neal. Personally, I'm not a fan of them, but with their help, Blaine at least stands a chance to survive this mess. A much better chance than when you do this on your own. And so do you, for that matter.”

Neal stared at him in surprise.

“Mitchell said Blaine wouldn't be harmed if you did what he asked. But even if he does keep that promise, you have no guarantee he won't try to kill you instead.”


	5. Chapter 5

Neal checked his watch for the fourth time. He was standing at the corner of a street, carrying a backpack with the ransom money in it, as he had been instructed. He knew he was early, but he remembered that Mitchell appreciated punctuality, just as much as he liked his orders to be obeyed. Neal wasn't sure how this exchange was going to happen. Mitchell hadn't given any details on the DVD, but had only said to wait at that corner with the money. It was almost 10:30am, which meant Blaine had been in their hands for seventy hours. 'Seventy hours too many,' Neal thought as he watched a car with tinted windows slow down and stop before him. He looked at his watch again: exactly 10:30am. Apparently Mitchell hadn't changed that much in nine years. The window in the back opened, revealing a face Neal had hoped he'd never have to see again.

“Mr. Caffrey, it has been too long. Why don't you join me so we can catch up.”

It didn't sound even remotely like a friendly request – rather like an order –, but Neal opened the door and got in the car nonetheless. As soon as he had closed the door behind him, he heard the sound of the car being locked.

“Let's go,” Mitchell barked at the driver, before turning back to Neal. “Don't worry about the anklet. I took care of that for you. According to your GPS, you're at home.”

Neal wasn't surprised to hear this; Mitchell had made it very clear on the DVD that he knew about Neal's connection to the FBI. However, he did wonder how Mitchell had managed to hack the marshals' system.

“I do hope you've kept your end of the bargain and have kept your...friends out of our business. Not that it matters because they won't find us anyway, but I think it would be a shame if I had to kill your precious little brother. How old is he again? Sixteen? Or seventeen?”

In the back of his mind, Neal knew Mitchell was trying to provoke him and he willed himself not to fall into that trap, so he stayed silent.

“Oh, before I forget,” Mitchell continued, extending his hand, “your phone, please.”

Without saying a word, Neal gave him his cell phone.

“Good boy.” Mitchell opened the window on his side and threw the phone out. “There, no more interruptions. Let's get to business, shall we? I take it you've brought my money?”

Neal nodded. “I want proof Blaine's alive.”

“I gave you my word, didn't I? Don't you trust me, Mr. Caffrey?”

“You know how it is, Mitchell, people like us can't afford to be too trusting.”

“So I've noticed. If I recall correctly, you're the one who taught me that lesson. And now your brother has to pay the price.”

“Where is he?”

“Patience, Mr. Caffrey. You'll get your proof when we reach our destination.”

They continued their drive in silence. Despite all the questions filling Neal's head, he didn't ask them, focused on getting his brother back first. He'd deal with finding answers later.

After a while, the driver turned into a parking lot that was empty except for a familiar grey van. When they stopped a few metres from the van, the person sitting in the driver's seat stepped out of it. At a nod from Mitchell, the car doors were unlocked. As everyone left the car, including Neal, the young conman noticed that Mitchell's accomplice had pulled out a gun, while the other goon went to stand behind Neal threateningly. Taking in his situation, Neal knew it would be a very bad idea to try anything. Mitchell turned to him again.

“The money?”

Neal tried to hold his emotions in check. He knew he needed to retain some control in order to bring this to a good end. Smiling, he shook his head.

“And here I was, thinking you were a man of your word,” he said somewhat teasingly. “Didn't you tell me you were going to give me proof of life first?”

A fake pleasant smile appeared on his opponent's face.

“I see you still know how to drive a bargain. Fair enough.” He turned around to the driver of the van. “Rolph,” he barked, motioning with one of his hands. The man, Rolph, moved to open the back doors. From inside the van, a third accomplice appeared, dragging someone out with him.

“Blaine,” Neal breathed, the relief clear on his face as his emotions got the best of him for one unguarded moment. Mitchell smirked triumphantly. The small figure stumbled, but was kept from falling by the goon holding him by the collar. Neal's fists clenched when he looked at his brother. His arms were bound behind his back and a blindfold hid the upper half of his face, his hair a greasy mess above it. A dark bruise showed on his left cheek, his bottom lip damaged from biting it. He was shivering slightly, but Neal couldn't be sure whether it was from fear or cold, considering they had taken Blaine's jacket, cardigan and his shoes, for some reason.

Meanwhile, the man holding him had taken out a gun as well and rested it against Blaine's side.

“That's my end of the deal, Mr. Caffrey. As you can see, your brother is alive, as promised. Now I want my money.”

“How do I know you won't kill him anyway once you have your money?”

Blaine gasped when he heard Neal's voice. The young conman wanted nothing more than to reassure him, but he didn't want to give Mitchell the satisfaction.

“I guess you'll just have to take the risk. Hand it over.”

Neal knew he had no other choice. He took the bag from his back and gave it to the criminal.

“It's all there.”

“Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. Nothing personal.”

Mitchell threw the bag to Rolph, who immediately started to count the money and load it into another bag. When he was finished, he nodded, earning a grin from Mitchell.

“Very well.” He turned to Neal. “As we agreed, I will set you brother free. However,” Neal tensed as Mitchell pulled out his own gun, “I'm afraid I can't grant you the same favour, Mr. Caffrey. And this _is_ very personal.”

He trained his gun at Neal's chest.

“You know, I really don't like being humiliated. So I think it's about time I taught you and other people like you a lesson of my own.”

Neal raised his hands slightly, but stood his ground.

“Is that really necessary, Mitchell? You know I don't like guns. Maybe it's about time you took a break from all the killing; you look tired. When was the last time you went on a holiday? I hear Rio is really nice this time of the year.”

“Don't mess with me, Caffrey!” His outburst of rage was quickly replaced by an ugly grin of satisfaction “You have no idea how I will enjoy watching you die. Although I'll admit it's a bit disappointing as well. I was expecting so much more from you. I guess I was wrong about you after all.” He released the safety pin.

“FBI! Drop your guns!”

From all around them, FBI-agents appeared with their guns trained on Mitchell and his accomplices. Blaine started visibly, turning his head even though he couldn't see anything and causing the man behind him to grip his collar even tighter.

Mitchell turned to Neal in a rage. The loud sound of a shot echoed across the lot. The criminal dropped his gun almost immediately, gripping his bleeding upper arm.

“I told you to drop it,” Rice said, anger blazing in her eyes.

One by one, Mitchell's accomplices surrendered, dropping to their knees with their hands on their heads. The man holding Blaine was the last one to give in. When he let go of the teenager, Blaine, who hadn't been firm on his feet in the first place, stumbled forwards and fell on his knees. As soon as the last handcuffs had been placed, Neal approached Blaine, who was still sitting trembling on the ground. He knelt before him and cautiously took off the blindfold, startling the boy.

“Blainey,” he said softly. “It's okay, it's me.”

Blaine relaxed slightly, blinking his eyes against the sunlight, while Neal moved to free his hands. When he was done, the conman took his brother's face in his hands.

“Blaine? Are you okay?” He inspected the bruise. Blaine didn't seem to be able to speak yet, but nodded instead. He was still shivering, so Neal took off his jacket and draped it over Blaine's shoulders, rubbing his arms.

“Neal...,” Blaine whispered, looking about ready to fall apart. He leaned forward, resting his head against Neal's chest. Neal took him in his arms carefully. Holding him, he could feel the tremors running through his brother's body.

“Neal?” The conman looked up to see Peter standing next to them. “Are you two alright?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “I guess Mozzie was right.”

“I guess so.”

* * *

They were back in the FBI building. Neal took off the golden watch he was wearing and gave it back to Peter.

“I'm really starting to like that watch, despite the fact that it's very kitschy and definitely not my style.”

Jones chuckled while Peter rolled his eyes. The conman looked through the glass walls into Peter's office, where Blaine had picked up the phone and was dialling a number. After Rice had insisted on getting Blaine's statement as quickly as possible, Neal had taken him up here first to give him the chance to call Kurt while Rice interrogated Mitchell and his accomplices. The young conman had offered to stay with him, but Blaine had wanted to be alone for this.

“How is he?” Diana asked, breaking Neal out of his thoughts.

“Fairly okay, I think. Shaken, but it could've been worse. He's lucky to only walk away with a bruise and a scare.”

Diana nodded.

“He'll be fine,” Neal continued. “He's always been very resilient.”

Neal looked down, trying to push away the feeling of guilt that coursed though him. Suddenly, he remembered what Mitchell had said in the car about his anklet.

“Hey, Peter,” he started, wondering whether Peter had heard that conversation. After all, Mitchell had said it didn't matter if Neal had involved the FBI, suggesting he had taken precautions to make sure no one could follow or find them.

“Did you hear what Mitchell said while we were in the car?”

“No, we lost your signal when you stepped in. It came back when you were in the lot, when you got out of the car, I think. Did he check for transmitters?”

Neal shook his head.

“Then he must've been scrambling the signal. Why? What did he tell you?”

Neal knew it was useless hiding this information from Peter. The latter would check the data of the anklet and find out sooner or later. And when he did, he would automatically assume Neal had kept it from the agent on purpose.

“He said I didn't have to worry about my anklet because my GPS signal indicated I was at home.”

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise and pulled out his phone to check the data from the anklet. Apparently, he didn't like what he found because he frowned deeply.

“You're right. According to this, you're still at June's.”

“Do you think he has an inside man?” Diana asked.

“Maybe. It would explain why Neal's supposedly at home right now. Or how Mitchell managed to find you and Blaine in the park.”

“And the letters,” Neal interjected.

“What?”

“Think about it, Peter. According to Blaine, none of the letters I sent ever arrived. And they haven't moved since I left. So either the post office has been blundering all those years, or someone has been intercepting those letters. We were in WitSec, Peter,” he added, not failing to notice the surprise on Jones' and Diana's faces. “The marshals have been guarding us for years. They were in the perfect position to sort through our mail.”

Peter stayed silent, reflecting on what Neal had just said. Neal turned to look at Blaine again. The soft curse that escaped him pulled Peter from his thoughts. The three agents watched as Neal entered the office without saying another word. He sat on the chair next to the teenager, who had started crying while they had been talking.

Peter looked uncomfortably at his two agents.

“I'm going to inform Rice about this.”

They parted ways, giving the two brothers in the office some privacy.

* * *

Blaine sat down in one of the chairs in the office. He had told Neal he wanted to do this alone, but he was glad knowing his brother was keeping an eye on him from the hallway. He pulled the phone that was sitting on the desk towards him and started dialling Kurt's cell phone number. He still wasn't sure which day it was, but it suddenly occurred to him that Kurt might be in class and therefore might not pick up. After only one ring the call was answered and he heard the voice he had waited to hear for what had turned out to be three days.

_“Hello?”_ It sounded anxious. Blaine closed his eyes and let the sound of Kurt's voice wash over him. Despite how much he wanted to say something, he couldn't because, all of a sudden, his throat was closed off with emotion.

 _“Hello?”_ Kurt asked again. _“Who's this?”_

Blaine was breathing hard, trying his best to make his voice work.

_“Blaine? Is that you?”_

Hearing him say his name in such a hopeful tone made the lump in Blaine's throat become slightly smaller.

“...Kurt,” he choked out, hardly recognizing his own voice.

 _“Oh, Blaine,”_ Kurt whispered, the relief clear in his tone. _“Are you okay, honey? … Blaine?”_ he asked again when Blaine didn't answer. He couldn't.

“Kurt...,” he tried again, but nothing more came out. He barely noticed the tears streaming down his face. He had started trembling again, despite the thick FBI jacket someone had given him.

 _“I'm here, sweetie,”_ Kurt said softly. _“Take your time.”_

Blaine tried to take some deep breaths to calm down, but it wasn't working. Just as he began to regret sending Neal out, he felt a hand on his knee. He opened his eyes to see his brother sitting next to him.

“I've missed you,” Blaine managed. “I've missed you so much, Kurt. I love you, I love you.”

He didn't know what else to say. It seemed important to tell him this.

_“I love you too. It's good to hear your voice again. Are you okay? Where are you now?”_

Blaine swallowed a few times before he could answer, while Neal was rubbing his back comfortingly.

“I'm fine. We're at the FBI. Neal's here with me.”

 _“Thank God,”_ Kurt sighed in relief. _“When are you coming home?”_

“Um, I'm not sure... Um... They still need my statement, so... maybe tomorrow? I don't really know.” He hadn't thought about it. He had been so focused on everything that had happened and on calling Kurt that he hadn't thought of asking when he could go home.

 _“That's okay,”_ Kurt said, snapping Blaine's attention back to the present. _“Just let me know when you do know, okay honey?”_

“Yeah, I will.”

Outside the office, he saw the agent with the big ginger hair coming up the stairs.

“Kurt... I think I have to go,” he said reluctantly. “They're here for my statement.”

_“All right. Maybe I can call you back later?”_

“Um... I'm actually not sure what happened to my phone...”

 _“Oh... No problem,”_ Kurt reassured him. _“How about you call me when you've had some rest? How does that sound?”_

“Sounds great.” Blaine swallowed. His throat was closing again.

 _“Good,”_ Kurt said softly. Seemingly sensing his boyfriend's distress, he added, _“Blaine, you can call me at any time if you need me, okay? Even if it's the middle of the night.”_

“Okay,” Blaine whispered. “I love you.”

_“I love you too. I'll see you soon.”_

“Uh-huh.” Blaine was trying not to cry again, but failing.

 _“It'll be okay, sweetie,”_ Kurt soothed. _“You'll be back home soon and I'll be right here waiting for you.”_

“Okay.”

After they had ended the call, Blaine tried to get his breathing – and his crying – back under control. He felt arms enveloping him, but it took a few seconds to remember Neal was still sitting next to him and to relax enough to let himself be comforted. Eventually, he managed to calm down enough to accept the handkerchief Neal was offering.

“Maybe I should just give you my shirt,” Neal joked while Blaine cleaned his face as much as possible. “It's ruined now anyway with those lakes you just shed over it.”

Blaine couldn't help but laugh at that.

“You sound like Kurt.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Neal retorted, smiling widely. “Are you ready to give that statement?”

Blaine nodded.

“Will you... stay with me?” Blaine asked tentatively.

“Of course. Come on.” Neal stood up, pulling his brother up with him. “Let's get this over with.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Neal woke up on his couch. He got up and walked over to the bed, stretching his muscles, which were stiff from lying in the same position all night. He lifted the blanket from the bed a little, revealing the face of his sleeping little brother, lips slightly parted. He had been asleep since they had arrived at the apartment the previous day and hadn't woken up once, not even when Mozzie had barged in later in the evening to make sure his friend was still alive.

After he had reassured himself that his brother was still safe, Neal went to his kitchen to start making breakfast. He was just debating whether to wake Blaine or to let him sleep when he heard movement behind him. He put the two plates he had prepared on the table and walked to the bed again. Blaine was sitting up, looking around in confusion.

“Nice timing, squirt, breakfast is ready.” He settled himself on the edge, next to what he assumed was Blaine's leg. “How do you feel?”

“Fine. I'm still tired, though.”

“You can sleep some more after you've eaten something.”

Blaine nodded and followed him to the table. They ate in silence, neither knowing what to say. When they were finished, Neal cleared the table before sitting down again.

“Blaine...,” he started. “I should apologise.”

“Why?” the teenager asked, confused.

“Because of what happened. I'm really sorry you got hurt because of me. This would never have happened if I hadn't been so selfish. I don't expect you to forgive me for the past few days and I wish I could undo what I did, but since that's not possible, all I can do is apologise. I'm sorry.”

He looked up to see Blaine gaping at him.

“Why are you apologising? This wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you saved my life.”

“After I put you in danger in the first place.”

“You didn't.” Neal wanted to refute this, but Blaine wasn't finished. “Unless you planned this whole kidnapping for some obscure reason, you couldn't have known this was going to happen.”

“That's just it, Blaine. I've always known this might happen if anyone knew we were brothers. That's the whole reason why I left and changed my identity. I should never have made contact with you again.”

“Well, from what I've heard, they already knew who I was and what the connection between us was. It was only a matter of time or maybe the right opportunity before they made their move. You couldn't have stopped them either way.”

In the back of his mind, Neal knew Blaine had a point, but that didn't take away any of the guilt he had been feeling for days.

“How did they find out about me anyway?” Blaine asked.

“Actually, a better question is how Mitchell found out about Cooper Anderson. If I do say so myself, I covered my tracks pretty well. Add to that the fact that we were in WitSec and Cooper Anderson should've been impossible to find. But once he knew about me, it was only too easy to make the connection to you.”

Neal paused. He didn't want to tell Blaine the next part, but on the other hand, he realised the teenager deserved to know the whole story.

“Peter called me yesterday, while you were sleeping. He told me Mitchell's right-hand man confessed everything,” he said. “They've been intercepting my letters for years, ever since they discovered my previous identity.”

“What?” Blaine interjected disbelievingly. “How?”

“Apparently, Mitchell got himself some help from a few inside men.”

Blaine thought about this a minute until it hit him what Neal meant.

“The marshals?”

“Exactly. One of the guys guarding you has gambling debts and Mitchell has been 'helping' him with those in exchange for those letters. Turns out he wasn't the only one on Mitchell's payroll, which is how he also managed to change the data from my anklet.”

Blaine was baffled.

“I thought they were supposed to protect us.”

“They are. Unfortunately, it seems some of them didn't get that memo.” Upon seeing Blaine's expression, Neal added, “Hey, those guys have been arrested. They can't get to you anymore.”

“Isn't that what we assumed before?” Blaine muttered sarcastically.

“True,” Neal admitted. “But they're not all like that. Not all of them are corrupt.”

“Our family doesn't exactly have the best track record in that respect, though,” Blaine blurted out without really meaning to.

Neal was dumbstruck. He had no idea how much the teenager knew about Neal's father, given that he hadn't even been born yet and that the conman had never told Blaine the whole truth about his dad.

“What do you mean?” he tried, hoping Blaine had meant something else with that remark.

“Don't play dumb, Neal. I know about your dad. Not exactly the hero mum used to make him out to be, was he?” he said without any venom in his voice.

“... She told you?”

Blaine shrugged.

“Not directly,” he answered bitterly. “She did, however, have plenty to say about how she has been disappointed by every single man in her life. Your dad, my dad, you because you left... me because I'm gay.”

“I'm sorry, Blaine.”

“Don't be. It's not like she has ever cared anyway. It just took me some time to realise that.”

“I'm sure she does care, squirt,” Neal tried, not entirely convinced of his own words.

“Yeah?” Blaine asked vehemently. “Then where is she right now? She does know about my kidnapping, doesn't she? I mean, I'm sure the FBI would've informed her, wouldn't they?” Neal nodded. “So where is she?”

Neal couldn't answer, couldn't say anything to interrupt Blaine's rant.

“Still at home, I assume,” the worked up teen continued. “Did she even call while I was away? To ask about the investigation? Well? Did she?”

“... I… don't know.”

Neal wished he could have given a different answer, but he really didn't know. If she had called, she probably would have been in contact with agent Rice or with Peter, but neither of them had said anything about it.

Blaine sighed, seemingly finished ranting.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I guess I can't blame you for wanting to leave. As soon as I've graduated, I'm moving to New York as well. Not as a criminal, though,” he added teasingly.

Neal smiled.

“Is Kurt going with you?”

“Yes. Actually, it's the other way around. He's graduating this year while I still have one more year of high school to endure.”

“At least you still have him. And I know for a fact he does care. A lot. I mean, my phone almost exploded from the amount of times he called me for an update.”

Blaine laughed softly at that, which was immediately followed by a yawn.

“Maybe you should get back to bed, get some more rest.”

He looked at Blaine, expecting him to agree and stand up, but instead the teenager stayed seated silently, looking as though there was more he wanted to talk about but didn't know whether he should bring it up. Neal waited patiently until his little brother had summoned the courage to say out loud what was going on in his mind.

“You know,” Blaine started hesitantly. “I... used to think it was my fault you had left.” He rushed the words out, as if he was afraid he would lose his nerve.

“What? No! Blaine, why would you think that?”

Blaine looked down at the table, wringing his hands.

“It's just that... you left and you never called me or anything. Now I know you did try to contact me, but I used to think I must've done something wrong, that maybe you were mad at me for something.” His voice was growing softer while he spoke.

“Of course not. You have no idea how many times I have wished I could have been there to watch you grow up. Or to help you and to be there for you. Especially when you were in the hospital after that Sadie Hawkins dance.”

“You know about that?” Blaine asked in a shocked tone, finally looking up from his hands.

“Mozzie told me. I'm really sorry I wasn't there, Blaine, I wish I could've been. ... I was in prison at the time. So despite how much I wanted to break the agreement with myself to stay away for your protection, I couldn't.”

“It's okay. I understand. At least I know you care.”

“Of course I do. I always have.”

Blaine smiled.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, shoot,” Neal answered. When Blaine grimaced, he added, “Sorry, I didn't mean that literally.”

“I know you feel you need to protect me from possible enemies, but... please... don't leave again?” Blaine asked in a small voice.

Neal looked taken aback, but didn't hesitate when he answered.

“I won't. After all, I did promise your boyfriend.”

“What do you mean?”

“He asked me somewhat the same thing.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. It seems he knows you better than you thought, huh? I told him I would stay in your life if you still wanted me to.”

“Of course I want you to. What happened doesn't change that. I thought we had already established it wasn't your fault.”

“Yeah well...”

“It wasn't,” Blaine said forcefully. “And you had better start believing it, 'cause if I have to say it one more time, I will punch you until you do believe me.”

“Fine, I believe you,” Neal chuckled.

“Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take you up on your offer and sleep some more,” Blaine said, trying to hide another yawn.

“Go ahead. I'll be right here if you need me.”

“Okay.”

* * *

The following morning, Peter, Neal and Blaine took a cab to the train station, where a marshal was waiting for them to accompany Blaine on the way home. The teenager eyed him suspiciously until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Don't worry, that's Matthew,” Peter said reassuringly, frowning when he noticed how the boy tensed at the contact. “He's a personal friend. He'll keep you safe.”

Blaine wasn't convinced, but he didn't say anything, instead following the agent to the right platform. He was wearing clothes and shoes June had picked up for him in the thrift store; Neal hadn't wanted to leave Blaine alone in the apartment and none of them trusted Mozzie's sense of style. In his pocket, Blaine's hand closed around the cell phone Neal had asked Mozzie to buy, remembering what his brother had said before they had left.

_“How do you like the clothes? I know they're probably not your usual style, but it's better than what you were wearing or going barefoot.”_

_“They're fine. Your landlady has a good sense of style.”_

_“I know,” Neal smiled. He walked to the table and picked up one of the cell phones lying there, handing it to his brother._

_“Here you go, a replacement for your phone. I've already put my number and Kurt's in it. I've also added Peter's cell phone number, just in case.”_

_“Thank you. You didn't have to.”_

_“Yes I did. Besides, at least now I won't have to rely on letters you might never get. Although I might consider using carrier pigeons in the future,” he mused._

_Blaine smiled._

_“We'll stay in touch, right? Despite the risks?” he asked warily._

_“Yes, we will. I promised, didn't I? I may be a conman, but I do intend on keeping that promise.”_

_Blaine nodded. “Okay.”_

_They shared a hug until Peter was knocking at the door, telling them it was time to go._

“So, kid,” Peter said, interrupting Blaine's thoughts. “Have a good trip home. And I hope to see you again sometime.”

“Likewise, sir.”

“Call me Peter.” He winked and took a few steps back to give the brothers some privacy as they said their goodbyes.

Without saying a word, Neal pulled Blaine into another hug.

“Mozzie's already on the train,” he whispered in the boy's ear. “I've asked him to keep an eye on you for me.” He pulled out of the hug, taking in his brother's appearance. “Let me know when you've arrived, okay?” Blaine nodded. “And if there's anything, you can call me at any time.”

“Okay.” Blaine swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check.

“It'll be okay, little brother. Don't be a stranger, okay?”

“Okay.”

After another brief hug, Blaine followed the marshal onto the train, sitting down next to a window. As the train left the station, Neal looked at the waving form of his brother until the train was out of sight. Peter came to stand next to him

“Let's go to work,” Neal said.

“Are you sure? I don't think there's anything that needs our immediate attention, except for some mortgage fraud cases. So if you want, I could give you the rest of the morning off.”

At that moment his phone went off.

“Burke,” he replied automatically as he picked up. “Where? … Okay, we'll be right there.”

As he put his phone away, he turned to Neal.

“Scratch that. It seems we have a new case lined up for us.”

“Not insurance fraud, I hope.”

“No, your favourite: museum heist.” Neal visibly perked up. “A Matisse was stolen from the Museum of Modern Art.”

“Which painting?”

“ _Dance (I)_.”

“Impressive. Hey, did you know _Dance (I)_ was only a preliminary work? Later on, he made _Dance_ , which is now in St. Petersburg, while _Dance (I)_ was donated to the Museum of Modern Art.”

“I did know that actually,” Peter interrupted, before Neal could start his history lesson.

When they were in the car on their way to the museum, Peter looked sideways at his partner, who was staring through the window.

“Are you okay, Neal?”

Neal looked up, pasting his signature smile on his face.

“Of course. I've always loved a good museum heist. Solving them, I mean,” he hurried to add.

Peter knew Neal was avoiding the issue. But he also realised he couldn't force the conman to talk about his feelings.

“If you ever want to talk...,” he opted to say instead.

Neal looked at him again.

“Thanks, Peter. For everything.”

“You're welcome. So, what do you know about this painting?”

Neal would talk to him when he was ready.

* * *

Blaine's eyes snapped open, fear coursing through him. He didn't remember what exactly he had been dreaming about, but he knew it had been very dark. He looked around. Next to him, Matthew was filling in the crosswords in the paper he had brought.

“How much longer until we arrive?”

Matthew looked up and checked his watch.

“Fifteen minutes, I think. Maybe twenty.”

Blaine nodded in response. A few seats away but still within sight, he saw Mozzie looking intently through the window, pretending he hadn't been watching Blaine just a few seconds earlier. For some reason, the presence of the conman was comforting. He went back to looking through the window himself, trying not to fall asleep again.

Twenty-five minutes later, the train finally arrived at its destination. Blaine didn't move from his place until he felt Matthew's hand on his shoulder and, looking around, he realised they were one of the last ones still in the carriage. Finally, he stood up and followed Matthew out of the train. Suddenly, it occurred to him that it was all over, that he really was safe. Until now, the previous days hadn't really registered. But now, standing in the train station surrounded by too many people, it all hit him at once, every memory and every emotion he had suppressed by sleeping. He stood stock-still, immobilised by this realisation. It was too much, all the anxiety and relief and fear crashing into him at once. He could hardly breathe, he felt himself fall apart–.

“Blaine?”

The high voice shocked him out of his paralysis. His head turned sharply to the left, where he saw Kurt approaching him slowly.

“Kurt...,” he breathed, closing the small distance between them and practically throwing himself at his boyfriend. As he hid his face in Kurt's shoulder, he felt the latter's arms surround him, protecting him from the outside world. Taking in his lover's familiar scent, he could feel himself calming down, finding it much easier to breathe as his many emotions settled down.

They stood there for a while, holding each other, until Kurt pulled back gently and started to inspect Blaine's face, his fingers gingerly tracing the contours of the bruise.

“You're hurt...,” he murmured.

“It's just a bruise,” Blaine responded in a small voice, knowing Kurt was talking about more than his cheek. “It'll fade.”

Somewhere behind Kurt, Blaine saw Mr Schuester and Ms Pillsbury watching them, the latter with a delighted smile and tears in her eyes. Because his attention was focused on the two teachers, he didn't see the sign Kurt made with his hand. He did notice, however, when from all around them familiar voices started harmonising. He chuckled wetly when Kurt started singing the first verse and was backed up by Finn after a few lines. As the song continued, the rest of the New Directions approached until they were standing in a circle around him and Kurt. By the time the song was finished, it had become almost impossible to keep the tears in his eyes from escaping.

“Thanks, guys,” he said softly, swallowing. “You have no idea how much... how much this means to me,” he choked out.

A general “Ooohh...” erupted from the group, until Sam shouted, “Group hug!” and Blaine was engulfed by the group.

“Good to have you back, Frodo,” he heard Santana say, followed by several “Yeah”s.

Later in the evening, while he was lying in Kurt's arms on the Hudmels' couch with the rest of the New Directions spread out over the living room, Blaine realised he had everything he had wished for while he had been held captive. He had Kurt and his friends right there with him, his brother was back, and next year, he would be able to graduate and go back to New York. He knew it would take a while to really feel safe again, but lying there, he was sure they would get there eventually.

He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy Kurt's warmth next to him.

 

**The end.**


End file.
